Run Fight Eat Sleep
by Latina-Destiny
Summary: The zombie apocalypse didn't leave much room for any other thought process. Survival meant complete focus on those four necessary actions, and sleep was definitely the hardest to come by these days.
1. Chapter 1

Run. Fight. Eat. Sleep.

The zombie apocalypse didn't leave much room for any other thought process. Survival meant complete focus on those four necessary actions, and sleep was definitely the hardest come by. It had only been a few weeks since the initial outbreak began in Spain but Aria's father had been a diligent, sometimes bordering on obsessive, on preparing his offspring for this particular scenrio. For all her grumbling on wanting a father who wasn't so paranoid about the future her whole life, she felt an insane amount of gratitude toward her loving yet driven father. If it wasn't for the life he gave her, she never would of thought herself capable to do this. To survive. And ensure her younger brother's survival too.

Aria's amber eyes focused momentarily on the youth running at her side, just a fraction slower, following her lead trustingly. A sliver of fear trickled down her spine as the boy's young gaze caught hers briefly. The blind faith glowing in his familiar bright hazel eyes was too much. A pressure settled on her chest heavily. Air seemed like a vague dream.

The low roar of moans and groans behind them was still too loud and too close for the young woman to like with how long they'd been running so far. Aria could keep going for a couple more miles, easily. Her seven year old brother, however, could not despite the determination in his expression. When running proved inefficient, climb.

"That tree, now! Go!" Aria pointed to the tree in question before pushing him forward. Smoothing back errant curls that broke free from her tightly knit french braid, she turned to face the hoard staggering after them.

A strange calm descended over her as two over eager zombies that approached more quickly than the others. Rolling the tension that grew from almost an hour of running from her shoulders, she unsheathed the two machetes holstered to each thigh. One quick twist of them in her hands and she felt it. That burst of adrenaline to solidify her confidence as she took her fight stance. Aria took three steps to meet the walkers, both weapons held at the ready. The air around her charged with deadly intent as she let her instincts take over. The roar of her heartbeat and breaths thundered in her ears. Her body moved like liquid around the dead swarming around her, machetes swinging with precision to her targets as she pushed herself further into mass of dead bodies. She wanted them to focus on her and lead them away from her responsibility that was scrambling up a tree right now.

It felt like hours had passed when her machete finally sunk into the last animated skull reaching for her. Aria breathed deeply through her lips as she jerked her blade free. The foul odor that followed made her stomach roll. Her nose crinkled in disgust but simply used the clothes on her kill to wipe her weapon clean of the brain matter that stuck to it. A rustle behind her made her straightened and she glanced over her shoulder cautiously, breathing out a small sigh of relief at the sight of her little brother slipping down the last few feet of the tree. He closed the space between them quickly, on surprisingly silent feet. Once her blades were cleaned to her satisfaction, she slipped them back into their sheaths at her thighs, meeting her brothers disapproving look. A warning flashed through her amber eyes as she measured his visible frustration. Tread carefully, she warned silently.

"I could've helped," the young boy said simply, his put off tone washing away the last bit of adrenaline in her system.

"Yeah, well, next time, Cyrus. We'll have plenty of opportunity, believe me," Aria assured him tiredly. She gave his small shoulder a light squeeze, knowing instantly her little brother had been frightened by the sight of her against twenty zombies.

"We should just stick to the trees for a while," Cyrus suggested with a deep sigh, leaning into his sister's side as soon as she touched him.

"They're not like back home," Aria warned as she gave him a half hug, leading him away from the corpses that laid mutilated across the small clearing. "Branches aren't as thick. You want to fall?" Her amber eyes darted up assessing the distance before peeking back at the boy teasingly, "Your not humpty dumpty. There's no putting you back together, macho man."

"I won't fall," he assured her with a confident grin on his small face. "You won't either."

"I'm glad one of us is psychic," she commented dryly, the slight upward tilt to her lips letting him know she was still teasing. "Come on, still got a long way to go."

A branched snapped near by and they both froze. Aria tightened her half hug on the boy momentarily before releasing him. As she strained her ears for the slightest sound to follow, her fingertips brushed the handles of her machetes and that strange burst of adrenaline mingle with calm be gain to course through her veins. Another branch snapped even closer. And still silence followed.

"That's close enough," Aria called out, ignoring her own slight dose of fear as she glimpsed the fear reflected back from the young boy looking up at her apprehensively. " I don't care who you are or what you've been through, you come at me or my kid, and I guarantee I'll surprise you."

Cyrus shivered beside her before edging a bit closer. She ignored the guilt she felt. He told her recently how her cold voice sounded in this situations. Regardless of how it bothered him, she wouldn't drop the edge from her voice. She was all about giving people the benefit of the doubt but this apocalypse showed her a line needed to be drawn immediately. Now there monsters both alive and dead. Whoever they encountered would know up front she meant business. Her slight height and frame at 5"3 wasn't the most intimidating and couple that with the the seven year old kid glued to her side, they looked like easy pickings at first glance. Where once her priorities had been cluttered with countless goals and challenges, now there was only one goal, one purpose she swore she would keep alive. That purpose was standing just slightly behind her as she faced the direction where the sound of a third branch breaking quietly broke the tense silence after her blunt words.

Three men suddenly emerged from the brush, surrounding them in a large triangle. She immediately looked for weapons. No guns from what she could see anyway. A bat with nails protruding from the end, an large ax, and a shovel. They were grimy, covered in dirt and what looked like dried blood that seemed to cake their entire bodies. Their appearance so couldn't have mattered less to Aria. She knew Cyrus and her probably looked ridiculous like wannabe assasins in their sleek, black body suits with calve high, black boots. It was their eyes that set the hair on the back on her neck on edge. They looked blood thirsty.

"Ain't she cute, Billy?" One of the men asked with disturbing humor. Asshole number one, she decided as the one in directly in front of her continued to chuckle with amusement.

"Oh, she's some than'. Don't ya know ya manners? Your in the south, lil' lady." Asshole number two spoke up next.

Aria didn't say a thing as she kept her focus on all three men, her brain flying at light speed with all the different tactics of defense and escape that could help diffuse this dangerous situation as quickly as possible. Asshole number three had yet to speak and it made her senses heightened for the slightest vibe she got from him. He was the leader of this little rag tag team, she knew it.

When the silent man took a step forward, her thoughts came a screeching halt and she countered his step with one back, one of her hands darting to Cyrus to keep him slightly behind her.

"I said that's close enough," Aria repeated eerily calm as her free hand wrapped firmly around the machete at her left thigh.

Asshole number one began laughing magically while number two simply looked to Asshole three with a eager look that made her entire body tense in anticipation. Three broke his silence then, his thin lips stretching into a cruel smile as he lifted his weapon of choice to lazily rest against his shoulder. "Not nearly as close as we're gonna be in a minute, darlin'. If your smart, you'll play along an' we just might let the boy run off instead of killing him first."

Hot, blinding rage seared through the young woman's veins as her maternal instincts for her brother screamed in protest. "If your smart, you'll turn around and go back where you came. Don't think you fellas woke up with the intent to die today. You go one way, we'll go the other," she demanded. Inside, she felt shocked at how calm her voice sounded despite her heart thundering in her chest from the anxiety of the situation.

"Not gonna happen sugah," Asshole number three began to advance and taking his cue, so did one and two.

Aria didn't even register Cyrus crying out in protest as she shoved him back and away from the men that approached her menacingly. She unsheathed both her machetes in an instant and all her anxiety and fear melted away as that surge or adrenaline and calm filled her senses completely this time. The ax swung at her first from Asshole #2 and she dodged the blow, using the momentum to swing around under and bring one of her machetes down on both of the arms holding the offending weapon. Her momentum was her guide as she followed the swing to avoid the nails of the bat swung at her head, not even bothering to see if her aim stayed true to course. The hysterical screaming was answer enough.

Aria felt the shovel coming her way almost a second too late as she danced from in between Asshole #1 and #3. The tip of shovel grazed her shoulder but she kept moving despite the burning scrape she could feel through the material of her body suit. Gritting her teeth, she swung her arm out, cutting deep into the muscles under the arms of Asshole #1 holding the bat, barely allowing herself to feel any satisfaction at the humor finally leaving his bloodthirsty eyes as pain and agony replaced it.

As quick as she prided herself on being though, Aria concluded she could afford to be faster, especially as she felt the sharp crack that followed a shovel being smacked against the back of her head. Pain exploded through her skull and her vision flashed white as she lost her bearings and dropped to the ground from the impact. Suddenly, she could hear Cyrus cry out clearly, the terror in his voice reminded her that she didn't get a moment to get herself together. She _had_ to be together. There was no else to help but her kid brother.

Aria tried to jump to her feet quickly but swing of the shovel to her ribs stopped that quickly and flipped her onto her back in one move. Her lips parted in a silent cry from blow, her pain riddled mind still registering the extra dangers their loud cries carried. A heavy weight settled over stomach and she heard Cyrus cry out again.

" **Get off my sister**!"

The blow to her head still had her vision swimming with white flashes but she heard the distant sound of a heavy handed slap followed by a young cry. Pain and anger fueled her struggles beneath Asshole #3. She punched, kicked, and scratched, but with her vision impaired, and more likely, a concussion weighing heavily on her conscious, her efforts felt sloppy and ineffective. Panic was already deep in her bones from the moment she hit the ground but when she saw her vision began to dim at the edges, terror and horror won. Aria blinked furiously to try and clear her sight but through the growing haze of darkness, all she could see was Asshole #3's cruel, triumphant smile and his thirty for blood eyes. She cried out in protest finally as her mind with the very real possibilities of what could follow if she blacked out now.

" **No**!"

An arrow whistled over her head, only centimeters from her face and the oppressive weight above her suddenly fell back against her lower body, pinning her to the ground still. She struggled to hold on to the last bit of consciousness she had, an overwhelming fear eating at her soul as the last of it slipped from her grasp.


	2. Chapter 2

"Tonight's tha' night, Darylina."

Daryl shot his brother a scowl over his shoulder before continuing to ignore the elder Dixon as he tried to focus once more on what he was sure was deer tracks.

"Wait till Mexico's on watch. Fucker s'always dozing off on the job," Merle pointed out condescingly, with a snort.

"Yea', and then what?" Daryl goaded quiety, piercing blues never once moving from the ground.

"Haul ass and find som' place to lay low. This shit ain't goin' away. These dumbass' still think there's a government to give a fuck about what's happenin' to the rest of us!" Merle snorted.

Daryl kept his silence at that, trying not to pay too much attention to the thoughts his brother provoked. He didn't like to wonder too much on if there was anybody fighting to fix whatever the hell this was. Regardless of if there was or not, the archer knew he could survive in either world. As for the rest of the world, he'd seen some really crazy shit in the midst of Atlanta the first few weeks. Living people were just as dangerous as the dead; Daryl caught onto that shit quickly.

These people they suddenly found themselves saddled with though.. Daryl couldn't deny the twist in his gut was from this kids and their moms, losing what little bit of protection and sustenance he knew he could offer. First time he laid eyes on Shane, he knew the former cop was a snake, kept his distance from him too. That Peletier asshole was begging to get his ass kick every time he interacted with his flinching wife and kid. Dale, Jim, Morales, and Glenn were alright. Blind as hell to easily corruptible cop taking charge, but each were determined to contribute to the group. He didn't feel right trying to steal from them and take off in the night never to be seen again. Daryl was building his courage, trying to figure out how to dissuade his rash brother when he heard it.

The unmistakable low moans and groans started real soft, he almost didn't pay it any mind till he heard the distinct sound of running, closing in and coming fast. The archer didn't even hesitate to dart into the brush, cutting his eyes at his brother. Merle was way ahead of him, reaching thick foliage first and hunkering down, out of sight.

A young boy and woman came flying into the clearing, cheeks red with exertion as their feet flew over the ground, the soft roar of walkers getting louder quickly. Daryl was so dumbstruck by their strange attire, he completely missed the young brunette calling out to climb. His attention snapped back when the first of the walkers appeared. At first glance, he counted at least ten. And they were riled up. They were staggering in pretty quickly, freshly turned walkers. His heart rate picked up as his hands immediate tightened on his crossbow, setting his sights on the first of the two closes to the brunette. Merle's hand on his shoulder stilled his twitching finger.

"Hold up, lil' brotha, I think we got ourselves a show!" His brother whispered low.

Piercing blue eyes followed his brothers sight and he felt his jaw slacken when he simply saw her standing, facing away from the walkers, rolling her shoulders. His finger twitched on the trigger again, ready to line up his aim when he saw her hands drift to her sides. Two long machetes were drawn from sheaths at either thigh and she finally turned to face the danger only feet away. The look in those strange hazel eyes as she approached the walkers made Daryl's crossbow falter as his brother made a sound of amusement beside him.

The girl must have had a death wish, was the archer's first thought. The aim of those long, shining blades were precise though and completely fatal with each contact. It was hard at first to keep his eyes trained on her when she delved into the crowd of dead. He could see bodies dropping as she moved like liquid all around them but there were so many closing in around her. Daryl immediately refocused his bow, startled by the heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, she's got this, les' go." Merle was retreating silently and quietly, jeering his younger brother back with him when he didn't move immediately.

Meanwhile, Daryl's mind was still frozen on the brunette's expression and her eyes, the array of curly hair falling from the thick knot on the back of her head. She looked.. he couldn't quite pin a word on the emotion he saw there. It was like a blend of exhaustion, determination, wariness, and anger all rolled into one. Those weird shade of hazel were just hovering in his minds view as his feet tingled with the urge to turn around and help. There were a total of thirty walkers in the clearing Merle was basically dragging him from.

"Ya see where the boy ran?" Daryl suddenly asked, almost turning around completely when he felt the same heavy hand on the back of his neck pull him forward again.

"Curly Q had 'im run up a tree. Smart. Definitely, not our problem!"

Daryl glared as his brother darkly as he jerked away from his touch, planting his feet firmly. "The fucks wrong with you? Two kids, one goin' up against thirty walkers, otha' in a tree and you just walk? No looking back, huh?"

Merle straightened up at the icy flash in the younger Dixons eyes. "You know damn good an' well there's enough mouths to feed at that bullshit camp as it is."

A scoff was his only reply as the archer tighten his grip on the crossbow, unable to explain the intense feeling in his gut telling him to go back. "It ain't right. We should go back."

"Sun must've fried ya' brain boy," Merle dismissed with a glower.

"Don't then," Daryl gave a half shrug as he moved to go back the way he came when they heard it.

"Get off my sister!"

A sharp, pained cry followed. Both Dixon men were quickly moving back the way they came. When a feminine voice screamed out in protest, Daryl broke out into a run, tearing through the foliage in record time. He didn't even register taking aim before his arrow was lodged in the man's chest where he sat. The blunt impact to the man's chest knocked him back against the girl's legs. Vaguely, he registered his brother crashing in behind him, freezing at the sight of fresh blood and bodies. Daryl felt frozen with his bow, unable to understand how easy it was to let his arrow fly when he finally focused on the girl gasping on the ground. As soon as his dark blue eyes fell on her, she went limp.

The boy looked worried immediately, drastically highlighting the large red handprint covering half his face. From his dazed sprawl on the floor, he jumped to his feet with lightening reflexes, only swaying slightly as he moved towards his sister. He kept his dark hazel eyes trained on both Dixon men till he dropped next to the subject of his concern. That young scared look came back to his face as he threw his body against the dead weight over her legs. There was an awkward moment of just watching this kid struggle silently at dislodging the weight. Just as both rednecks stepped forward, the kid gave a groan and successfully pushed the body off and further away from the unconscious woman. Just as quickly, the boy turned to face them, stepping between them and his sister as he broadened his stance.

"Don't come any closer," the boy demanded in a surprisingly even voice. His small hand gripped at a long dagger sheathed at his belt. The confidence in his words and voice was shattered by the lost look in his eyes as he glanced down nervously to where the girl was still lying.

"Whoa, take it easy now boy. Just sounded like you could use some help," Merle began, his amusement visible as he casually walked over to the two other bodies that had bleed out. A heavy tense silence followed as Merle drew out his blade and made sure the bodies stayed dead. Daryl felt his crossbow lower completely as he watched the kid carefully. Trying to keep an eye on both of them, the boy crouched near the girl sprawled on the floor. The first two slaps were light, while the third one had a little more weight. Still, the girl didn't stir.

Merle made to move to the body closes to the pair when the kid straightened again, hazel eyes darkening. "You take a step near near us and I will cut you," he stated simply.

"Listen here, you ungrateful lil' shi-"

"What's your name kid?" Daryl cut Merle off quickly, hoping to get the boy to take his steely hazel eyes off the eldest Dixon. It worked. There was a long moment of hesitation. Merle moved much more carefully to drag the third dead body away from them slightly before plunging his blade through the temple.

"..Cyrus." The boy's voice was low with unease as he watched Merle like a hawk as he retreated to Daryl's side.

"Cyrus, yah sister's easy pickin' for walkers."

"You mean those monsters?" he asked hesitantly, his eyes darting between Merle and Daryl now.

"Yeah... we got a camp, more kids and otha' women that can help her. You comin'?" Daryl asked bluntly as he slung his cross bow around to his back.

Another moment of silence stretched by as Cyrus silently contemplated the offer. He watched the kid's eyes dart back down to the girl with fear and worry.

"You guys try anything funny," Cyrus began slowly as he turned sideways to let him step by, "your gonna wish you left us alone. My sister can kick both your asses and make it look like she's just warming up."

"I'll keep tha' in mind," Daryl grumbled as he finally moved to step past the kid. His heart rate accelerated again as he looked down at her, arms slinking beneath her to lift her up.

She was light, too light to fill that skin tight body suit she wore like she did. When Daryl turned to face his brother, the grin on his face made his stomach turn. He recognized the up to no good glint in his eye.

"Let's go," Daryl demanded gruffly, his arms tightening on the slight weight in his arms. As he watch the kid quickly gather up his sister's machetes and follow after his brother, the archer couldn't help but notice the distinctive scent of lavender creeping into his senses. His blue eyes dropped to the unconscious face braced against his shoulder, those strange colored eyes flashing in his mind again as he breathed in her scent in silent wonder. How the hell were they gonna explain this to the others?


	3. Chapter 3

"The hell you still following me for, kid?"

The boy simply shrugged at the scowled sent his way over his shoulder. At least Carl has the decency to look a little frightened by the look. Not this kid. For only seven years old, the kid had way more sense and sarcasm any boy should have. Daryl couldn't use the excuse it wasn't safe for him to be trailing him around a loose perimeter around the camp while he tried to hunt. It wasn't even four hours ago they were lugging his sister back to camp when the the thought first hit him. Three walkers had crossed their path on the way back and while Daryl contemplated dropping the girl, his brother immediately rushed two of the dead. Cyrus had stunned both Dixon men silent when he ran straight at the third, using the walkers legs as steps to jump on before using one of the machetes in his grasp to sever the top part of the walker's head.

Daryl shook the thought away to cast another annoyed look at the boy. no, he couldn't use that excuse but he was determined to get the kid off his back. Soon. As soon as they made it back to camp, their new companions were immediately noticed. Lori, Jacqui, Andrea, and Amy immediately hovered over the unconscious girl, urging him to deposit her in Jacqui's tent. The archer did so quickly desperate to escape the bewildered looks he felt burning into his head.

As he practically ran back out of the tent, he immediately caught sight of Shane and his brother having tense words, Cyrus slightly behind Merle. The kid glared daggers at all the adults till his hardened gaze fell on Daryl. Not paying any mind to the heated discussion that halted at his movement, the boy crossed the distance between them quickly, hazel eyes glancing at the tent behind him distrustfully.

"My sister?" Cyrus demanded.

"Ain't no damn doctor," Daryl grunted, jerking his head back at the tent. "Find out for yahself." With that the archer approached the two people that were once again talking, the other men gathering around them loosely.

"Did she kill them?" He heard Shane ask as he came closer.

"All of 'em but one till we got there. Look like the last one was about to chop her damn head off with a shovel when we stopped him," Merle answered. Daryl felt his skin crawl at the tone his brother used. He was in complete manipulation mode.

"We can't just turn them away. That girl can't be more than 20, and the boy's younger than the kids we got here," Dale interjected, reading Shane's conflicted expression.

"We don't know them. They could be psychos," Shane argued, the authority in his tone rising.

Daryl rolled his eyes immediately with a scoff just as T-Dog spoke up. "We didn't know each other on the highway couple weeks ago either." Morales made a sound of agreement.

"Anyone else noticed the assassin suits they were wearing?" Glenn asked curiously. That detail had all of them pause in confusion and the tension immediately returned to Shane's face.

"It's just a girl and a kid," Jim stated finally crossing his long arms over his chest. "We send them away, your pretty much signing their death certificate."

Shane hesitated at that. "Fine, but we keep an eye on them at all times, especially when that girl wakes up."

Merle gave Daryl a wide grin as the men wandered back to their duties. Vaguely, Daryl registered Carol's face glancing worried at the tent the ladies were bustling inside before her deadbeat husband's voice had her scurrying back to his side. Ignoring the anger that flared briefly, Daryl fell into step with his brother as they walked back to their side of the camp where his truck and Merle's motorcycle were stationed.

"I think you got a' admirer lil' brotha," Merle snorted with sarcastic humor.

Daryl threw his brother a glare before following his line of sight. Cyrus was standing off to the side, Morales' kids, Sophia, and Carl surrounding him. The kids were chatting excitedly, probably asking all sorts of questions but the boy's eyes were trained steadily on Daryl. Even from this distance, he could tell the kid was thinking to damn hard something.

"Do I wanna know what your up to now?" Daryl asked instead of responding to the taunt.

"We'll put off our plans till the girl wakes up. Every one of 'em will be busy watching these two newbies to pay attention to us. Won't waste their time watchin' us once she's up, 'specially with how weird that boy of hers acts. Just wait and see," Merle predicted smugly.

Daryl didn't stick around too long after that. Since his hunting had been interrupted earlier, he decided to try again. Only this time, instead of his brother trailing after him, Cyrus evaded the kids and other adults trying to get his attention as he wandered off behind him.

"Shouldn't you be by yah sista's side or something?" Daryl asked after their silence stretched on for at least another hour.

"She's not awake yet," Cyrus answered vaguely.

"Won't know for sure if your stalking me," the archer taunted quietly as he stilled, raising his bow with ease. The arrow sailed through the trees, true to his mark as the tip disappeared into the rabbit he'd been tracking. Feeling moderately better that he wouldn't be returning empty handed today, Daryl made his way to his kill.

"Oh, everyone will know when she's up, trust me," the boy finally responded, a confident quality lacing his voice.

Daryl paused at retrieving the rabbit momentarily to glance back at the kid, feeling he was just given some kind of warning again. "That suppose to scare me, boy? Ya'll aren't exactly intimidatin'," He scoffed as he finally retrieved his arrow and tied the rabbit to his belt.

"Well see who laughs last. Don't judge a book by its cover."

"How old are you?" The archer suddenly asked as he found another set of rabbit tracks. The kid spoke too confidently to look so young.

"Seven and a half!" Cyrus announced proudly, an equally proud grin answering Daryl's disbelieving look.

"Ya got to be shitting me," he muttered quietly with a shake of his head. How was it a seven year old could take down a walker like he did earlier. "How you learn to kill walkers?"

There was a long moment of silence and Daryl looked over his shoulder to make sure the kid didn't just wander off. He was still there, his hazel eyes clouded with memory and the redneck instantly regretted asking. "Never mind."

"Our dad made us take all kinds of martial arts and survival training. I never thought I'd have to use it so soon," Cyrus trailed off thoughtfully.

The silence that fell over them was more pensive this time. Neither felt the urge to talk anymore and Daryl was more relieved at that then he should've been. He was never good with words. There was no hope he could offer to the kid. World was going to shit. At least the kid had a chance at surviving.. maybe.

After another hour, Daryl gave up on the rabbit eluding them and focused on the trees. If he could find at least two more squirrels, it'd be enough for dinner tonight and maybe a little breakfast to hold them over till he found more. Moments later, his arrow flew, catching a squirrel about 15 feet up in a tree.

"I got it," Cyrus offered as Daryl took a step forward. The kid hurried forward to scramble up the tree a lot quicker than the archer could've. Using the closes branches as steps, the boy climbed up like it was a jungle gym. In less than three minutes, his arrow and kill were recovered and Cyrus jumped down from the branches even more quickly.

The kid's face was slightly red from the exertion, the swollen handprint on his face standing out again. The accomplished smile on his face though as he handed Daryl back both items was beaming bright. The archer found no words again as he silently tied off the addition to dinner.

"One more an' we'll go back," Daryl grunted as he readjusted his grip on his bow.

They only made a couple of steps before a loud commotion reached them from camp. There were raised voices in alarm but one rang above them all with a chill.

"I want to see my kid in the next few minutes, or everybody's going to have a real shitty day from this point forward!" "

"Aria!" Cyrus breathed excitedly. The boy barely spared Daryl a glance that was blinding with relief and joy before sprinting back towards camp. It was like someone had wiped away the heavy weight that had been weighing the kid's face and shoulders down.

The voices in the distance still alarmed forced the Archer's feet to propel just as quickly, mere feet from the seven year old tearing through the trees like a man on a mission. The kids smart-ass comment from earlier wasn't sitting well in his stomach and he worried momentarily if he had made a mistake and brought a psycho into the midst of their quarry camp. He only hoped Merle wasn't antagonizing whatever situation they were about to find.

Authors note: So as you probably guessed by the title and summary, this is my first fanfiction. Quite nervous, but more determined to put all the story plots floating in my head in some sense of order. Of course, I'm a huge fan of the show, just getting into the comics so please, bare with me. As much as I love the show, just like most people on this site, I imagined a different scenario here and there so my story might not follow consistently with the show or comic book. I'm really just taking this chance to explore how long I can keep a plot going and if anyone likes it! I'm definitely not going to beg for reviews, because I know I read through countless fictions without leaving many. They are welcomed however, both positive or negative. I can only learn from whatever insight is lent to me so I'll judge mainly on how many follows and favorites there are on whether my story is actually good enough to continue. On that note, thank you for taking the time to read my fanfiction work! ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

Consciousness came back to Aria slowly. The first thing to register was the throbbing pain in the back of her head. It radiated throughout her skull, encouraging her not to break the thin crust that had formed over eyes just yet. Her ribs were painfully sore just lying back, breathing carefully. The thought of moving almost brought a grimace to her face. She kept the sleeping facade though as she tried to control the panic suddenly coursing through her.

The muffled voices in the distance were alarming to her. The last thing she remembered was that horrible man with the shovel pinning her to the ground. Silently willing her twitching muscles to still, the brunette tried to assess how many people were near by. Her hands curled into fists unconsciously. At least five.. maybe more. As far as she could tell, there was no one waiting close by to her. Her ears were straining for the slightest breath or step in her close vicinity. The moments crept by achingly as she found herself hoping to hear the familiar light feet that belonged to her brother. With her heart racing in her chest, Aria carefully opened her eyes.

The thin film of a tent was all her blurry vision could make out at first. The action made her head pound stronger but the young woman simply swallowed thickly at the sensation, refusing to let the pain overwhelm her like before. After a moment of letting the blurriness fade from her eyes, Aria turned her head to side, taking in the empty tent she was in. From the feel of it, she was on a padded sleeping bag. Much better than the trees her and Cyrus had taken to sleeping in the last few days.

Cyrus..

Biting her lip, Aria pushed herself to her feet silently. The action took longer than she liked. Once she stood firmly on her feet, she assessed her physical state more critically. Definitely sore in the torso, but nothing broken. Worst case scenario, maybe bruised ribs. She had to make sure she moved quickly. One hit to either her ribs or her head and Aria knew she'd go down like a sack of potatoes again.

Crusty amber eyes were scanning the small space absently, hoping to see the familiar gleam of her blades. Vaguely, she noticed her curly, unruly hair was freed from the knot she'd taken to tying it in. Another weak point someone could try and use, her mind analyzed. Her heart sank when all she could catalog in the tent was the sleeping bag, a bottle of water, and a damp rag. Feeling on the verge of panic without her blades or her brother in her sight, Aria immediately reached for her left boot while stomping the tip of her right boot lightly. The blade the emerged from her right boot eased her heart rate slightly, but it was the dagger that she pulled from her left that gave her back her sense of control.

It wasn't as threatening in looks or size like her machetes, but she could damn well get the job done. She could handle hand to hand combat pretty well lately, but not knowing what other weapons were on the outside of the tent did not make her eager to get that close. It was times like this she wished she carried a gun. Chances are though, they would've taken that as well. As it was, she was immensely relieved she had her dagger. She'd take four inches of steel over nothing.

Before she could do anything more than tighten her grip on the blade, the cluster of voices in the distance began to sound much closer. Quickly, Aria tapped her right foot to hide the short blade there and backed herself into the corner next to the opening of the tent. Her free hand came up to brush away whatever remaining crust obscured her vision, wanting to see whatever threat that came through those flaps clearly.

"It's been almost five hours. Maybe the blow to the head was worse than we thought?" Sounded like a much older man, elderly if she had to guess.

"If it was, nothing we can do. Have to keep the boy with us then," another male voice, this one line with authority. The comment had Aria's adrenaline pumping again. "Kid won't last on his own out here long and no telling when the government is gonna have this sorted out- Where you goin?"

"I'm gonna go check on her." A female voice this time, much closer. The woman's voice was warm with concern. The brunette found herself praying the lady wouldn't. She was going to have to restrain the next person that came in and for some reason, her gut was to torn in indecision of how to act if that voice came in.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Lori." This voice was male too, but definitely younger than the first two male voices.

"Why's that? Are you scared of a girl?" A different female voice sounded and Aria felt panic flutter again briefly in her stomach. So many people.

"Oh come on! You saw those suits! It means something!"

"Chill, man, I'll go." Yet another male voice different from the others. Too many voices, her conscious warned.

Aria tensed tightly, the man's shadow falling over the tent as he approached. A dark skinned hand appeared between the flaps, moving them aside as the bulky man slipped in. He took two steps inside before the realization of the sleeping bag being empty froze him. In that moment, her actions struck like lightening. Aria sprung from the corner and sent a swift kick to the back of one of his knees dropping him down to one knee. His cry of surprise was loud, too loud. Her hand without the dagger immediately came around him to clock him in the throat. Before the guy could do anything more than choke and try to grasp his neck, she grabbed one of his arms and with an iron clad grip, twisted it behind him roughly till she heard the pop she was waiting for from his shoulder. Her hand with the dagger came flying around to his throat threateningly, cutting off his cry of pain.

The sound of running feet told her that the encounter in the tent did not go unnoticed. "Get your feet under you, now!" Aria whispered harshly into his ear.

Groaning with the effort, he stood shakily, muttering curses under his breath. With her heart racing in that familiar surge of adrenaline, she emerged from the tent with her human shield. The bright sun in the sky blinded her momentarily. Her amber eyes squinted slightly in the glare but remained focus on the numerous figures suddenly surrounding them.

"Oh my God..."

"T-Dog!"

"I told you those suits meant something!"

"Let'im go!"

"What the hell are you doing!?"

All the voices melded together in a low roar that made her muscles tightened even more. No telling how many of those dead things were starting to drag themselves to this quaint little gathering here from all the ruckus. Her hand tightened on her blade pressing it more firmly to the bulky man's throat as he groaned in pain. As much as it pained her to wait, Aria kept her silence, her narrowed eyes darting from face to face in an attempt to convey her seriousness. When she didn't see any hint of the small face she was searching for, the brunette gave the arm in her grasp another pull. The dark skinned man's painful yelp had all of them falter momentarily.

"If I don't see my kid in the next few minutes, everybody's going to have a real shitty day from this point forward!" Aria warned in her most icy voice. Her maternal instincts were revving up for a fight. The husky man with the large nose and the large redneck were the largest threat her mind prioritized, followed by the Hispanic and the tall skinny man hanging by the old man.

The man with the large nose stepped forward as the group's voices rose again. Aria glared at him as he raised his hands in a seemingly unarmed gesture, not fooled for even a moment. His posture was too tense. He would be ready to tussle, she was sure. "Your boy is in the woods with one of our men, hunting. He wouldn't talk to anyone, just Daryl. He'll be right back."

"Are you stuck on stupid?" The brunette hissed out between gritted teeth, her pulse jumping in pure panic as she contemplated the probability of this man being honest. "Not a chance in hell I'm just going to take your word. You don't know me and I sure as hell don't know any of you! I want my kid back right now," she demanded, thankful for how calm and collected she sounded because she felt anything but calm. "Bring him back to me and nobody else has to get hurt."

The pain in her head and torso throbbed steadily, reminding her of her weakened state but the absence of her charge was propelling her past the point of caring. The voices blurred into that low roar again, all of them trying to reassure her that he was near by, with whoever Daryl was. Everyone but that towering redneck standing who stood off to the side, grinning like a maniac. His obvious amusement unsettled her nerves more than she thought possible.

"Aria!"

The young voice was the sweetest thing Aria had heard since the apocalypse began. Feeling a powerful relief flood her system, her amber eyes immediately sought out the source. When she finally caught sight of the seven year old breaking through the foliage and sprinting towards her, she released the man she held captive and closed the distance to her brother in the blink of an eye. Cyrus leapt into her open arms with a dazzling smile on his bruised face, his little arms and legs latching around her like steel while he buried his face in her neck. Mindful of the dagger still in her grasp, Aria clutched him to her like a lifeline, staggering slightly in pain from the impact. Her chest heaved in a silent gasp, her ribs smarting from his weight but she only held him tighter, her heart singing in joy from feeling his tiny heartbeat against her. She would've dropped to her knees from both the pain and joy of having him in her arms again if it wasn't for the man that was practically on her little brother's heels till Cyrus flew into her arms. Amber eyes locked with crystal blue and Aria felt as if the world tilted. A strange, unfamiliar flutter filled her stomach. Before she could contemplate what the sensation meant, Cyrus pulled his little face back slightly, blocking the man from her sight as he smiled brightly up at her.

"I'm so glad your awake!" His skinny arms tightened around her neck marginally, his chestnut eyes gleaming from his excitement. "I've been watching everyone like a hawk like you taught me! Kept my mouth shut and my eyes open," he divulged in a whisper.

The feel of his tiny hands winding into her curly locks combined with his sudden seriousness made her heart ache with affection. Her free hand reached up from his back to run through his hair, silently reassuring him that she wasn't upset with the choices he had to make. She couldn't even imagine how scared he must've been. Seeing him happy and unharmed now calmed her maternal instincts and she felt her injuries pulse in retaliation. Steeling her shoulders, she turned back to face the group of strangers that were watching them with a mixture of wariness and sympathy. The hand with the dagger was braced beneath her brother as he seemed intent on not budging from his position wrapped around her. Half of the group was circled around the man whose shoulder she had dislocated while the others continued to watch her with the same hesitance she felt.

The elderly man approached them first and Aria tried valiantly not to tense. "That was quite the introduction," the old man began with a shaky laugh, as if unsure she would lash out again despite the child in her arms. His eyes drifted to the blade still in her hand briefly. "I'm Dale," he introduced carefully.

She was quiet for a moment, weighing her options before she finally spoke. The defining factor was the fact that she felt no fear coming from her brother. His heart didn't race against her, didn't even tense. He simply laid his head on her shoulder, watching Dale calmly. "Aria," she responded quietly, swallowing the lump in her throat as she looked over to the man slumped to his knees on the ground, cradling his shoulder. "I should apologize," she said a little louder, catching the man's gaze, "but it'd be a lie. People are more dangerous than ever these days. I couldn't be sure you all weren't the same as the last few groups we ran across.."

"Can't blame them if you greeted them like you did us," the man with the large nose commented, his voice laced with displeasure as he tried to carefully inspect T-Dog's arm.

"I dislocated it. Has to be popped back into place," Aria answered neutrally, ignoring his words as she carefully sheathed her blade back into her boot. Cyrus remained wrapped around her like a vine. Silence stretched in the air awkwardly as the man's shoulder was popped back into place, his painful cry making her wince slightly.

All eyes were once more on them and the brunette felt extremely uncomfortable, especially when she caught sight of the four kids hovering behind two women close by. "Thank you for looking out for him while I was.." she trailed off, hesitating on reminding them of her weak spots. "I'll keep my word. We'll leave you alone just as soon as I get my blades back," she added carefully, feeling extremely vulnerable without her machetes sheathed at her thighs.

"I'm Andrea.. Are you two on your own?" One the blondes spoke up, her eyes surprisingly kind as she approached to stand shoulder to shoulder with Dale.

Aria hesitated again before giving one quick nod, feeling the child tense slightly as memories flooded both of them. There was no need to elaborate and frankly, she doubted if either her or Cyrus would ever be able to recount their first month in the outbreak to anyone, even each other. An involuntary shiver crept up her spine and she tightened her hold on her brother. There was a slight chance they had someone else out there in the world in their corner but the odds were stacked pretty high against it. As far as Aria saw it, it was just Cyrus and her against the world.

" Don't you think it'd be safer for him, for both of you, if you stayed with us?" Andrea asked carefully.

The question made Aria freeze unconsciously. Narrowed amber eyes once again scanned each face, faltering on the guy she remembered the Nose guy referring to as Daryl. Her heart pounded in her chest as her gut warned her this offer was not to be taken lightly. Before she could even contemplate an answer, a disgruntled male voice broke the tense air.

"I swear you people are the stupidest sons of bitches I've ever met. This crazy bitch would've killed one of us in a blink of an eye and your inviting her to stay? Dumbasses." The man stood separated from the rest, his hand possesively gripping a buzzed cut woman's neck as he steered her away from the group to a tent off to the side.

" Don't mind Ed, he's an ass to everyone, even his wife, Carol. We all just steer clear of him," another woman spoke up just off to Aria's left. The woman stepped forward more confidently and extended her hand. "I'm Jacqui."

Feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the people still surrounding, she carefully shook her hand. Dale, seeming to sense her discomfort, quickly pointed everyone else present with their names. Glenn, Amy, Shane, Jim, Lori, Carl, Sophia, Morales, Miranda, Eliza, Noah, T-Dog, Merle, and Daryl. Aria's head swam with all the names and faces. Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, she forced herself to take a calming breath. She sent a quick prayer up, hoping against all odds this group would prove to be a lot less crazy than the psychos they had a habit of running into.


	5. Chapter 5

Awkward and uncomfortable were understatements to how Aria felt after Jacqui's words. It felt like everyone's eyes were on them. Even after the group dispersed, wandering off to their own little areas in the makeshift camp site, she could still feel the numerous eyes watching her warily. She took a few minutes to just stand there and revel in the solid weight of Cyrus in her arms despite how much her ribs protested. His presence and the feel of his fingers winding around her curls calmed her nerves and her heart to think clearly. With one last 360 degree glance at the area around, Aria walked back to the tent she woke up in. It wasn't till the flap fell shut that Cyrus loosened his grip on her. Seconds later, they were both sitting cross leg on the dirt in the center, eyes trained on the flap that rustled gentle with a breeze. The silence rolled thick and heavy over them for a few moments. She couldn't even begin to comprehend what was going through his mind right now. She had failed him. What could she say? What words could she possibly find that would excuse the danger she had left him to on his own? As hard as she racked her mind, there were none. She was on the verge of wallowing in the guilt when Cyrus finally broke silence.

"Are you mad?" His voice was a tentative whisper.

A sigh escaped her before she could catch it. The small shoulders beside her slumped in immediate response. With a shake of her head, Aria pulled him gently into a hug.. "I'm not mad at you," she began quietly, trying to find the words stuck in her throat. "I'm mad at the situation I let us get in..."

The seven year old perked up immediately with a look of protest on his cherub face. Instead of voicing them, he simply nodded with a shrug. Aria marveled at the maturity her little brother was to grasp, especially in this horrible new world. "Those people though," Cyrus trailed off, intense concentration suddenly gleaming in his eyes. "They're different.. They don't have that look in their eyes like the ones back in the cities."

Aria pondered on that for a moment. He was right... It was the first thing she looked for when she burst from the tent. There was no crazed, lunatic look to any of them. Two or three shady looking ones, but not deranged. Not yet. "Okay, I can agree with that. There's still no telling what they're capable of," she reasoned in a hushed voice. "We'll just keep our mouths shut and our eyes open for a while longer till we can slip away." When all she received was a nonchalant shrug, she look at him more directly. "I take it you feel differently?"

There was the funniest look of defiance on his face, the moment where she could see his seven year old nature coming to light before his expression became sheepish. "They're good people," he started, "Most of them, almost all of them. I feel like we'd be okay here for a while- just to catch our breath!" he hurried on, his cheeks reddening as if he were embarrass to speak up.

"Cy, you can't tell if they're good people from just a couple hours," Aria sighed. He was so innocent sometimes.. It only made her feel worse for lack of resilience early. Never again, she promised silently. Before he could protest more, she pushed herself to her feet and tugged him onto his. "We can talk more later. I know your exhausted. It has to be close to 18 hours since you slept."

At the prospect of sleep, a look of intense relief passed over his features. As he slipped beneath the cover on the thin makeshift mattress in the sleeping bag, the brunette helped unlace the thick laces on his boots. By the time she tugged them off, Cyrus was snoring gently, fast asleep. Carefully, she draped the cover back over him, brushing his hair back from his face before returning to her cross leg spot on the floor. It felt like she was sitting there for hours, watching his small form sleep. Realistically, it couldn't have been more than forty-five minutes, maybe an hour when her silent contemplation was finally interrupted. A shadow fell over the entrance of the tent. In an instant, Aria was on her feet, months of fighting for survival urging her instincts to remain in fight or flight mode. A slender, ivory had came into view, pulling aside the flap to reveal a willowy woman with long brown hair. It was the concern in her warm brown eyes that made Aria bite off the warning on the tip of her tongue. That and the two plates of food she also had balanced on the other hand. She could feel her stomach churning already at the sight. When was the last time she more than a few crackers at a time?

"Just finished rustling up dinner. I figured you must be hungry, especially Cyrus," the woman explained casually as she entered. There was no sign of apprehensiveness or fear. Only concern, and a hint of something else Aria couldn't quite identify.

"That's very kind of you," Aria responded quietly. An unsettled feeling of nervousness came over her suddenly that had nothing to do with life or death. When was the last time she actually had a conversation with another adult that didn't involve fighting for their lives? The social mannerisms her mother had ingrained in her seemed to have vanished completely after the last couple months.

"I'm Lori, by the way," the woman continued after a beat. She laid the two plates on the makeshift nightstand by the bed before fixing a kind smile on Aria again. "I have a son, Carl. I think he might be only a couple years older than your boy..."

"He's seven," Aria managed to force out, hating the impulse she felt to cross her arms protectively. There was a tense moment of silence for her. She marveled at how calm Lori seemed. Aria felt on the verge of blabbering nervously, something she hasn't done since high school and this woman just oozed positive, calm energy.

"He's lucky to have you," Lori commented with a small smile.

"How can you know?" Aria questioned, immediately regretting her incredulous tone. "I mean," she began again, "most of your camp already thinks I'm a dangerous assassin, right?"

"So you did hear Glenn? Good, I needed something to torture him with," Lori replied simply before smiling again, this time more brightly. There was such comfort and understanding exuding from that one gesture, Aria couldn't fight her defenses dropping. "I know because I saw your face when you finally saw him. He may be your brother but that was a mother's love I saw. The same panic, relief, and guilt I feel when Carl manages to slip away. You still have it."

A rush of heat flooded Aria's cheeks and she looked down, surprised by the emotion gripping her at Lori's insightful words. "I'm all he has," she tried to brush off, her gaze inevitably drawn back to her brother's sleeping face. His snores were steady and rhythmic, assuring her they weren't disturbing him.

"How old are you, Aria?" Lori asked carefully.

"Twenty-one..."

"I know it was more than tense out there, earlier with everyone... I just wanted to you to know you two are more than welcome to wait here with us," Lori offered sincerely.

"What do you mean? Who are you waiting for?" Aria asked quickly.

"For the National Guard, the Army? Who ever the government sends first looking for survivors."

"Lori..." She was hesitant, unsure how to explain what she knew discreetly. "I don't think there's any type of government left to evacuate anyone..."

"Of course there is," Lori insisted, "And when they start searching through the cities, we'll be close by waiting."

There was such calm certainty in her words, it was clear to Aria there was nothing more for her to say on the subject. They were complete strangers any way. How on Earth could she possibly convey how ruined their world was right now without giving anything away about who they were and where they were going? She couldn't risk anything where Cyrus was concern. Silence was the best option on that topic.

"I appreciate the offer to stay, but we still have a long road ahead of us," Aria changed the topic smoothly, secretly surprised at the genuine worry she could see flare in the older woman's eyes. A flash of her mother in her mind brought back the nostalgia she'd been fighting for weeks. It was a moment of weakness that brought a dull ache to her torso that had nothing to do with her bruised ribs and everything to do with the words that suddenly spilled from her lips. "It'd be nice to catch our breath for a few days though.."

"By all means," Lori's smile was bright once more. "Come find me if you need anything. I'll be the one having the many battles of wills with my boy. It's like clockwork."

"Actually, I do need something," Aria spoke up before she could slip out of the tent completely, an afterthought hitting her suddenly. "I have a bag of ours that we had to leave behind earlier. Can you point me in the direction we came from so I can retrieve it?"

"Oh honey, I'm the worst with directions, especially out here in the woods. I'll see if either Merle or Daryl can take you back."

"If you can just ask them which direction for me, I'd be grateful," the curly brunette declined politely, her mannerisms slowly filtering back to her. "I'm pretty good finding my way through trees, I like to move quick." It was clear Lori was uncomfortable with the idea. She seemed to think better of voicing her concerns however and slipped out of the tent as calmly as she arrived.

It was a restless night for the twenty one year old. Cyrus slept through the night for the most part, only waking once to scarf down a whole plate and the other half of hers she had left for him. Once he was back down for the night, she resumed her spot at the center of the tent, clearing her mind of the bittersweet memories of the five course meals their mother insisted on preparing almost every night growing up, and honing her senses for the slightest sound of movement. Morning dawned and Aria was still wide awake, calmly contemplating every pro and con with their current situation. As nice as Lori seemed, she couldn't afford to take any more risks. The older woman brought back to many memories that reminded the brunette of the warmth and security of having that maternal presence in her life. There was no security in this world anymore, hardly any warmth left in the few survivors that were still sane. That woman could easily become another weakness for her, she could feel it. And in this dangerous time, allowing one weakness could mean certain death. Cyrus was the only one she could allow, she reasoned logically. By the time her little brother began to rouse from bed, she was feeling more secure in her decision.

"You didn't sleep, did you?" The whisper came out heavily tinged with sleep and accusing.

"Of course I did," Aria brushed off with a small smile.

"You don't look like you did... You look exhausted," he challenged as he stretched his arms out, rising from the sleeping bag clumsily.

"One day you will understand why that's never a good thing to say to a girl," she shot back dryly.

Cyrus laughed at that, a grin remaining on his face as he made his bed, years of habit still ingrained in his subconscious. The brunette watched fondly for a moment, reminiscing on the days not so long ago when all he had to worry about was passing their father's daily morning inspections. She was lost in the memories when the boy finished and looked to her expectantly. "So?"

"Huh?" Aria answered distractedly before focusing, "Oh! Sorry."

He shrugged and gestured to the flaps of the tent over his shoulder. "Is it alright to go outside?"

"No, but we're still going to."

A truthful answer, one he clearly didn't care for but he didn't voice his protest. Honestly, Aria couldn't figure out why Cyrus felt so strongly about these people. They had run into so many horrible people since this apocalypse began, even people they had known from before had changed drastically to adapt to the horrors of the dead walking among them. If anything, she would've thought he'd be more apprehensive after the countless close calls with strangers. It wasn't adding up for her. Cyrus walked out of the the tent boldly and she followed right behind him, hoping against all odds his faith in humanity wasn't going to be broken so soon.


End file.
